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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25925266">Belong</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutosrose/pseuds/plutosrose'>plutosrose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky's insatiable flirting, Getting Together, Lingerie, M/M, Steve/His Guilt, a m/f/f dream threesome</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:21:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,062</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25925266</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutosrose/pseuds/plutosrose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In Wakanda, Bucky's body becomes his own again.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes &amp; Shuri, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1882291</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>113</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Belong</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For the Bucky Barnes Bingo, "Kink: Lingerie."</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had taken about twenty years for his body to become someone else’s. He might have shaped the century, but HYDRA had shaped him--in some ways that were quite literal.</p><p>Steve was bad at hiding how much he disliked his arm, and Bucky knew why. When he looked at it, he could only see the arm that HYDRA had given to him, strong, unbreakable, perfectly calibrated and designed to crush bones.</p><p>He didn’t have to tell him, either, because Steve had a habit of letting his emotions write the answers to questions he didn’t want to answer across his face.</p><p>But Bucky didn’t hate this new arm. This one was different--it was lighter, it didn’t get stuck and it didn’t whir back to life after either. He could spend hours clenching and unclenching his hand or flexing his arm.</p><p>Because it was his arm--and no one was going to make it into a weapon anymore.</p><p>-</p><p>He sometimes caught himself feeling a spot on his skin that he thought should have been jagged and torn or a bone that should have been broken. He’d asked Steve once if he remembered him getting hurt, and Steve hadn’t said anything else for that entire day, before he’d apologized and told him it wasn’t his fault.</p><p>Sometimes flashes came to him in dreams. (It was hard to forget the big, stupid grin on Steve’s face when he said that he remembered talking to him outside an apartment building that only seemed to grow wider when he told him he remembered him being small).</p><p>So maybe it wasn’t that weird when he had a dream about a beach and a Ferris wheel and woke up with the desire to go for a swim.</p><p>He had waited patiently until the late afternoon to spring this desire on Steve. Steve had a weird way of reacting to him sometimes. He always seemed happy to fill in the blanks of whatever memory he’d had, but he’d long since learned that when he’d mention certain things (what could have been so intensely sad about a flying car that didn’t work? Or him dragging him away from a fight?), Steve would get a blank, far-off look in his eyes. Like he was somewhere else entirely.</p><p>And he hated it.</p><p>So he’d become increasingly selective with the more ephemeral flashes that he had. Not to mention the fact that his brain also didn’t have a good way of sorting out what belonged to him and what belonged to the Soldier, and anything that he remembered that seemed like it might have belonged to the Soldier, even just might, he kept to himself.</p><p>But, after spending several hours thinking about it, it seemed like a memory that couldn’t be the Soldier’s. He remembered laughing and sunshine and water. He didn’t remember screaming or blood or death.</p><p>“C’mon I want to go for a swim.”</p><p>Steve raised an eyebrow at him. “Why?”</p><p>“Do I need a reason?”</p><p>Steve shook his head. “No, it’s just...you used to really like swimming.”</p><p>Steve smiled warmly at him and he smiled back.</p><p>“We should go change if we’re going to go swimming.”</p><p>Bucky licked his lips. “I mean....I don’t think we have to.”</p><p>The blush that crept up Steve’s neck was new. He liked it.</p><p>-</p><p>Since he had insisted on swimming naked, Steve had insisted that they wait until it was actually dark out. Their property was large and fairly secluded, with large trees surrounding it. The lake itself was even more remote--you couldn’t even see the lights from the capital there.</p><p>Steve was more cautious and deliberate as he stripped off his clothes and waded into the water, but he didn’t waste any time. He was already up to his waist before he heard Steve get in the water behind him.</p><p>He closed his eyes and breathed.</p><p>He could feel the cool dirt between his toes, the way that the water flowed around him, and he could feel the air--still humid in the Wakanda summers--against his face.</p><p>This belonged to him.</p><p>The flashes of scars and broken bones as the Soldier drifted away in the gentle current.</p><p>His body belonged to him.</p><p>-</p><p>They swam together three more times that week. Each time, Steve tried to convince him to wear a bathing suit, and both times, Bucky talked him out of it.</p><p>The water wasn’t particularly deep, but it was deep enough for him to fully immerse himself.</p><p>The first time he’d tried it, he had been under for about five seconds before it started to remind him of losing consciousness in the cryo tank. He’d emerged gasping and hyperventilating and Steve had held him close his chest as his breathing had gradually slowed down and gotten back to normal.</p><p>“Do you want to go back inside?”</p><p>“No,” he shook his head. “I want to try that again.”</p><p>Steve raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Okay, Buck. I’m right here if you want to try again.”</p><p>The second time, it felt better. His pulse was steady and swimming underwater made him feel free. There was nothing but him and plants and water and sand. In Bucharest, the world had seemed overwhelmingly large and expansive, and here, he could count the number of things in the world on one hand.</p><p>By the third time, he’d made a game of sneaking up on Steve to see if he could make him blush again.</p><p>Turns out, he could.</p><p>-</p><p>One of the things that he liked the most about Wakanda was that he could go to the farmers market without triple-checking the house and looking over his shoulder. It had taken a long time for him to feel like he wasn’t being watched every time that he decided to go for a walk, but now, he felt perfectly at ease.</p><p>It had occurred to him that morning that he could wear whatever he wanted, which is how Steve found him, still wearing pajama bottoms and examining the patterns of three different outfits that had been placed in his closet.</p><p>The look on his face looked sad, he thought, but also kind of amused. “What are you doing?”</p><p>“Trying to decide what to wear.”</p><p>“You’re just going to the farmers market, that’s practically down the street.”</p><p>“But it’s important,” he said firmly, even though he was really, only literally going down the street to fill up a basket with fresh fruit and vegetables, it felt important. “Have to look my best when I leave the house, Rogers.”</p><p>An unrecognizable look came over Steve’s face before he smiled and left him back to mixing and matching his outfit.</p><p>-</p><p>It was a couple more weeks before he had another dream, and this one was much different from the others.</p><p>There were always blank spots, but this dream had sound. And clear faces and color and touch.</p><p>Which maybe wasn’t surprising, considering the dream.</p><p>In the dream, he’d been wearing a soldier’s uniform, with two girls on his arm, one blonde, one brunette. Where they’d been walking had been kind of hazy--a shifting and uncertain dreamscape--but the rest?</p><p>He kissed them both with an open mouth, feeling the slide and pressure of their tongues against his. They both had such pretty lips. “Like rose petals,” he told the brunette, savoring the way that she turned bright red.</p><p>The blonde whimpered when he kissed her neck. He could feel her trembling, and he grinned--he remembers that very clearly--when he sucked a love bite on her neck and she swatted at him.</p><p>“James Buchanan Barnes, you are an absolute scoundrel,” she’d said, smiling playfully.</p><p>“I’m shipping out tomorrow, doll, forgive me,” he’d grinned back.</p><p>He enjoyed how warm they felt when they were pressed up against him. He took his time kissing them both, hand dipping between the other’s legs to enjoy her whimpers and gasps.</p><p>“Well soldier,” said the brunette, smirking. “I think we can forgive you.”</p><p>He must have said something else, but the words came out of his mouth without sound. Maybe the words had been dumped out of his head permanently, it was hard to tell.</p><p>The dream began to fray at the edges when the blonde pushed him back, fraying further as she straddled him and sunk down on his cock.</p><p>By the time he had started thrusting inside her–the brunette crawling closer until he was teasing her thighs with his tongue and pushing it inside her--he had started to drift away from them--each sensation growing duller until it turned into nothing.<br/>
-</p><p>When he woke up, his cock was fully hard and tenting his pajama bottoms.</p><p>He reached down and shucked off his pants, before quickly wrapping a hand around his cock, which was drooling at the tip.</p><p>He ran his thumb along the head, hips bucking into his hand.</p><p>Truthfully, even with the dream in the back of his mind, there wasn’t a fantasy or an image that he thought about as he stroked his cock. It was enough to feel the shivers and twisting pleasure in his abdomen, the way that his balls became tight as he climbed higher and higher.</p><p>He shuddered as he came, unable to stop himself from sobbing at how intense the feeling was, the way it had been able to flow through him and set his nerves on fire.</p><p>This feeling belonged to him.<br/>
-</p><p>He’d woken up the following day filled with the desperate need to do something about his hair.</p><p>He’d stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, leaning so close to the mirror that it had fogged up.</p><p>He felt each individual strand as he ran his fingers through it, appreciating the way that his hair felt when he gathered it into a ponytail and then the gentle release when he let go and it fanned out.</p><p>The more he stared at himself in the mirror, the more that he wondered if he should cut his hair--wondered if it was what he was supposed to do. But the truth of the matter was, he couldn’t really tell if he actually remembered having short hair or if he just remembered seeing the photos of himself in the Smithsonian with short hair.</p><p>He stood back from the mirror and appraised himself. He didn’t look bad with long hair, he thought. He didn’t have to change it to match a photo, either. But as he lifted it up and down a few more times, he realized that he didn’t know what he was supposed to do with it, either.</p><p>This was one of those ‘don’t ask Steve’ things, he thought. He didn’t want to see him get that faraway look in his eyes when he told him that he didn’t want to match the man in the photo anymore.</p><p>Which was why, eventually, he had decided to call Shuri, who came over a few hours later with a basket of colorful flowers over one arm.</p><p>“What are the flowers for?”</p><p>It was sometimes hard to believe that Shuri was just a kid, because the disapproving look that she gave him reminded him so much of a fuzzy and hazy memory he had of his mother.</p><p>“You asked me to help you figure out something to do for your hair, so this is what we’re going to do for your hair,” Shuri said, tilting her jaw.</p><p>Bucky chewed his bottom lip for a moment before shrugging. “What the hell. But let’s do it on the deck, Steve will freak out if we get flower petals everywhere.”</p><p>He sat down in one of their deck chairs, while Shuri dragged one over so that she could sit close enough to work.</p><p>Shuri was gentle as she pulled apart each strand of hair and started weaving a flower into it. “This is a Wakandan tradition.”</p><p>Bucky snorted. “I think you’re lying.”</p><p>“Oh?” Shuri raised an eyebrow, pulling on his hair a little bit harder than before. “And what does the White Wolf know about Wakandan traditions, hmm?”</p><p>“Ow!” Bucky’s hand instinctively went up to rub his scalp, before Shuri swatted his hand away.</p><p>“If you keep fidgeting, you’re going to mess up my work.” Shuri attacked every task put in front of her with steady determination and deliberation, so it shouldn’t have surprised him that his hair wasn’t going to be any different than any of the inventions in her lab.</p><p>He licked his bottom lip again, wondering if he should say something about Steve. It wasn’t as though he had too many options in this century for confidants, and it was not exactly easy to talk to Steve about Steve.</p><p>“There’s something wrong with him,” Bucky said finally, after casting a glance over his shoulder at Steve, who had just walked past them further into the house.</p><p>Shuri hummed to herself as she continued to work the flowers into his hair. “There is nothing wrong with him, White Wolf.”</p><p>“I have memories, sometimes,” he murmured. “Of how things were before. I can tell that some of them make him sad when I talk about them.”</p><p>“So, to you the solution is not to talk about anything, ever?”</p><p>“No,” he pursed his lips. “I just don’t want him to be sad.”</p><p>Shuri tutted to herself. “You are both a lot alike.”</p><p>Bucky raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”</p><p>She shrugged and picked up a few more pins to secure his hair as the door to the deck slid open.</p><p>“I was going to get started on dinner–is there something you want to eat tonight?” Steve asked, eyes lingering on his hair and his relaxed posture.</p><p>“First, what do you think?” he asked.</p><p>That unrecognizable look came over Steve’s face again as he smiled. “It looks good, Buck.”</p><p>-</p><p>For the most part, Bucky hadn’t strayed very far from their home when he went out on walks, but that morning, it had occurred to him that he could walk wherever he wanted–not just to the nearby farmers market and back.</p><p>That was how he’d wandered into the city.</p><p>For a few minutes, he’d walked around with his neck craned to the sky, taking in every detail of the gleaming buildings and inhaling deeply as the smells of different foods wafted out of the restaurants that he passed.</p><p>There were so many people too, more people than there’d been in Bucharest, walking in groups and talking to each other; walking alone and going in and out of stores; eating together at tables under large umbrellas.</p><p>He could understand them for the most part, which was the only thing that he would thank the Soldier for.</p><p>The name had caught his attention first. Most of the shop names that he saw were in English or Xhosa--not French, and then it had been the brightly colored fabrics in the shop window.</p><p>He hadn’t intended to actually go inside, or start feeling the fabric of any of the garments in the shop. Some were lacy. Some were soft. Others were smooth.</p><p>He had touched above five different pieces of fabric, all of different colors, before a clerk had cleared her throat. “Can I help you?”</p><p>“I...don’t know,” he mused, furrowing his brow as she stepped closer.</p><p>“Are you buying something for someone?”</p><p>He blinked and shook his head. Was that something that people did?</p><p>The expression on her face softened and she nodded. “I think I have a few pieces that you might like.”</p><p>-</p><p>The way that the fabric had felt against his fingers was nothing in comparison to the way that it felt on his body.</p><p>He had brought the bag--with its delicate La Belle Dame in pink cursive--into the bathroom with him. He had stripped all of his clothes off, including his boxers, and stared at himself in the mirror for several seconds, heart beating quickly in his chest.</p><p>He ran his fingers over the panties--a lacy and soft blue--before he leaned down to drag them up over his thighs and over his cock.<br/>
He could feel the twist of arousal in his abdomen, and he had to cup himself to stop himself from getting hard.</p><p>He bent down to grab the stockings from the bag. The clerk had tried to sell him on the matching ones, but he had pointed to them repeatedly until she’d set them aside for him too.</p><p>They were black, sheer, and lined with lace at the top. The smooth slide of them against his knees wasn’t like anything he could remember. In the back of his mind, he made a note to shave his legs more properly before he wore them again.</p><p>Once he didn’t exactly have a plan for what to do when he put them on. He licked his lips as he debated over whether to put the rest of his clothes back on or not.</p><p>Finally, he decided that he was going to go back to his room and get under the covers to see what they felt like up against the silky soft sheets.</p><p>He’d opened the bathroom door just as Steve opened the front door, back from his walk ten minutes earlier than usual.</p><p>He stared.</p><p>Bucky stared back.</p><p>That blush crept up Steve’s neck again.</p><p>He expected questions. He expected something, but Steve just stared, almost unblinkingly as he cautiously stepped closer. And closer.</p><p>“...what are you?” he started, his voice sounding hoarse and strangled. The blush deepened as he continued to look at him. He swallowed. “....wearing?”</p><p>“Don’t know,” Bucky admitted. “I just saw it in a shop window and...liked it....do you like it?”</p><p>Steve opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it after a few seconds, nodding.</p><p>Bucky licked his lips. He felt warm with Steve close to him like this, just like in his dream. “Do you want to touch them?”</p><p>After a moment’s hesitation, Steve nodded and reached out, cautiously touching the edge of the lace panties.<br/>
The touch was barely there, and Bucky caught himself thinking of it as polite. “You can do more than that, Stevie.”</p><p>His cock was already straining against the panties, and Steve moved his hand down with a bit more purpose to cup him through the fabric. “Like that?”</p><p>Bucky closed the distance between the two of them, kissing him a bit more harshly than he’d meant to--it was hard when he felt so intoxicatingly warm.</p><p>Steve’s hands drifted down to squeeze his ass, before prompting him to hop up and wrap his legs around him. In the back of his mind, there was a flash of a memory--something that told him that Steve carrying him shouldn’t have been possible.</p><p>But in that moment, Bucky was happy to let the tangled knots of memory go and focus on what his body wanted.</p><p>Steve kicked the door open to his bedroom and pushed him onto the bed, peppering kisses across his body.</p><p>This was better than the dream he’d had, he thought, if only because he felt a little thrill at not knowing where Steve might kiss him next.</p><p>When Steve pulled his panties down and wrapped his lips around his cock, he practically jackknifed off the bed. “Fucking hell Steve,” he panted, his arm coming up to cover his face.</p><p>He felt the same twist in his abdomen, but this time before he reached the top, Steve eased off.</p><p>“Buck,” he murmured. “Tell me what you want.”</p><p>It hadn’t occurred to him that he might need to be able to specify what it was that he wanted. He licked his lips. “Um...sex?”</p><p>Steve let out a sigh and his shoulders visibly relaxed as he kissed him again. “Yeah Buck. I think we can do that.”</p><p>His fingers dipped lower to run along the stockings. “Do you want to take these off?”</p><p>Bucky thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. “No, keep them on.”</p><p>Steve nodded and grabbed a bottle of something out of his nightstand. Bucky looked up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath that became a gasp a few seconds later when something pressed inside of him.</p><p>“Does that hurt?” He looked down and realized that what he’d felt were Steve’s fingers. Steve himself was looking almost as worried as he did when he brought up something he couldn’t remember.</p><p>“No,” Bucky shook his head, before a grin slowly spread across his features. “It feels really good, actually.”</p><p>He could see Steve’s body relax again as he pressed another finger inside him and then a third.</p><p>This was definitely different than when he’d touched him, he thought. He felt full and electrified, desperate for more touch. More warmth. Every time he opened his mouth to say something, however, Steve moved his fingers again, making him whimper and gasp instead.</p><p>“God--” he gasped, and he was pretty sure that Steve was smirking now. He kind of hated him a little.</p><p>“You,” he panted. “You. Want you now. Not just fingers.”</p><p>“Yeah Buck?”</p><p>“Yeah,” he nodded frantically.</p><p>The feel of Steve inside him was even more intense. Stars were already beginning to burst across his vision as Steve started to move his hips.</p><p>Each movement was deliberate and calculated, and reached a part of him that he hadn’t remembered existed. His hands came to rest on his back, fingers digging in his skin so hard that he heard Steve gasp.</p><p>“Buck,” he gasped again, “Buck you’re perfect.” He babbled it over and over again as he continued to thrust inside of him, gaining in speed and in intensity.</p><p>He wasn’t perfect. He had plenty of invisible scars that Steve couldn’t see. Plenty of memories that could unspool in his head at any point that would make Steve want to throw him in a deep, dark hole and leave him there.</p><p>For now, though, he felt perfect, in a way. He could feel a shiver running up his spine, a twisting, winding pleasure that was taking him to a different place than when he’d touched himself. He could feel Steve, warm and alive, all around him.</p><p>Yeah, this was perfect.</p><p>--</p><p>However, after they had both settled back onto the bed, anxiety started to well inside him. He’d tried to ignore it, but now, now that Steve was no longer touching him, the thought was coming back to the surface. He chewed on his bottom lip as he debated whether it would be a good idea or not to say something.</p><p>Had he felt this way before he’d been the Soldier? Was there something that he should have known--something that was locked in the furthest recesses of his mind?</p><p>He chewed on his lip for a few more seconds before he decided that he had to say something.</p><p>“Steve...I don’t remember if we ever....did we ever?” he asked. His heart was speeding up in his chest, prepared for the same faraway look Steve got when he brought up other memories.</p><p>Steve shook his head. “No. But...you know you can always ask things like this? If you don’t remember something and I do, I’ll get over it.”</p><p>Bucky leaned on his side and raised an eyebrow at him. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to. You went through so much because of me and the last thing I want to do is make things worse.”</p><p>Steve sighed and shook his head. “There’s nothing you could do to make things bad for me, Buck.”</p><p>“It’s me...and not me...but also me at the same time. Does that make sense?”</p><p>Steve snorted. “Not at all.”</p><p>“I know you wish I remembered more.”</p><p>Steve frowned and nodded. “Yeah. I know that’s not fair of me.”</p><p>“Can you just...stop?” he asked. Steve quirked an eyebrow at him.</p><p>“What do you mean?” Bucky had expected more bite behind that question, but there was more curiosity than anything else. Maybe he could tell that he was struggling to put what he felt into words.</p><p>“Like...can we have what we have now....and not the other stuff...unless I remember the other stuff? And whatever I remember is just...extra stuff.”</p><p>The look of curiosity on Steve’s face slowly drifted away. “Yeah Buck, we can have that.”</p>
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